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have you ever sat down just staring at one finger long enough that after a while it becomes two? if you have, take the said finger and jab it deep into your eye. too much time on your hands ah?

i’m starting to get pretty bored of blogging. its becoming the same old slog everytime i post up something. i did this, she did that, we both did this, insert funny comment and voila instant ejaculated blog. add in one or two pictures to spice things up. isn’t that the usual format for most blogs nowadays?

i could blog about how i managed to wank off and successfully and artistically draw out a portrait of che guevera all over the wall, but i won’t. i could blog about how i spent some time watching the mechanic fix up my car, hoping he makes a mistake so i can get some excuse to run him over, but i won’t. i could even blog about how i used to mosh in the studio to the point of banging my tender right eye into the mic stand, thus giving me a lovely shiner, but again, i won’t.

i mean, come on… who would want to read about that?

i’m pretty disillusioned about a lot of things. people change all the time. i’ve changed. you’ve changed. he’s changed. see the moron standing there near the bus stop outside happily scratching his bum and sniffing his finger? bet you he’s changed pretty much too. or maybe he didn’t.

i used to be this person who you could read. i was so transparent, it was almost indecent. you could pretty much well read my expressions and know almost every little thing that was going through my head. i’ve now fogged up and become opaque. and not due to steam or porn either, dammit. friends now tell me it’s almost like i have a mask on; noone knows what goes on behind this frozen smile of mine. they can’t tell if i’m really getting all emo and pissy about something, or merely mentally reviewing Bored Naked Housewives Playing About With Frozen Turkey Bits Vol.1 - Guaranteed Instant Hard On!. from that sunny happy-go-lucky sunshine boy who used to wear his feelings on his face, i’ve become this withdrawn introvert whose only burst of life is to down a couple shots of tequila and then proceed to do the can can dance complete with a feather boa.

i’ve started really looking at people. it’s really amazing what you can find out about someone merely by watching the way they talk, the way they walk and all those little things. sometimes what i see really amazingly actually does hit the nail spot on, but often i find that i am waaaaaayyy off the mark. but sometimes even the bullshit makes sense, in a way. i guess i have to thank college about that. i learnt nothing there, except how to bullshit so convincingly that you start to believe it yourself.

and now, just to annoy you all and make you all wonder what the FUCK i am talking about, tis time for some cryptic notes. if you understood any, good for you. well done. full marks.

1. if the carpet is senget or anything, LEAVE IT BE. i don’t care.

2. his name is HAM. i don’t care. i think drunkie’s a pretty silly name. what’s wrong with ham?

3. never work for any company that starts with S.

4. maggi is not fresh. no matter what you do, no matter how you cook it, it isn’t fresh. it’s goddamn artificial. so fuck freshness, ok?

5. if a masculine guy says pony in a masculine way, he still remains masculine. nothing wrong with a macho man saying pony. dammit.

6. and stop thinking about my ass! you ass groper you.